


Not Even a Thing

by glamaphonic



Series: Het Panic [1]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Bisexuality, F/M, Female Character of Color, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamaphonic/pseuds/glamaphonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's no big deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Even a Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/trek_rpf_kink/713.html?thread=27337#t27337) at the trek_rpf_kink meme, which might have been my own prompt shut up you can't prove anything.

The thing to keep in mind is that it's no big deal.

Not even. For reals.

Feeding on each other's energy, exploring that emotional openness, is _important_. And totes serious and that is being a fucking actor.

He and Zoe hanging out becomes he and Zoe hanging out in his room becomes he and Zoe cuddling on his couch becomes he and Zoe kissing. Companionably.

Friendly, friendly, soft lips and friendly tongues sliding against each other and friendly hands in friendly hair. Heavy breathing of camaraderie and maybe a platonic writhe or two.

It's not even a sexual thing.

It's evolution or some shit. A natural progression to be respected.

The way Chris eyes Zach's hand up Zoe's shirt when he walks into Zach's room without knocking could be construed as implying a certain lack of respect for hard scientific realities, but CPine plus booze plus increased pretty factor of castmates due to party attire is an equation that has resulted in enough similar outcomes to still his tongue.

*

He's always known. Well, not _always_ always, but Zach has overall been pretty sure for a pretty long time that he prefers driving stick.

Not that he's into binary definitions or anything. There can be feelings. Things can be fluid. There are a lot of sexy people in the world, after all, and he loves women. He has many, many excellent lady friends.

But there's a difference between saying, "Shit yeah, I'm kinda straight for her," and actually doing something about it.

*

It's a little bit a sexual thing.

*

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks in lieu of 'good morning.'

"My life is very full so, many things, thanks for asking!" Zach says, raises his eyebrows, and smiles his Are You Fucking Retarded smile that he usually saves for the craziest of interviewers.

"You know she just got out of a relationship," Chris continues, unperturbed, and Zach lets his focus slip from the cup of coffee he's pouring himself.

Of course he knows--and knew before Chris did, so fuck him--because Zoe isn't the 'cry on your shoulder' kind of girl, but she is the 'periodically tell raucously obscene jokes about why her asshole ex is an asshole' kind of girl.

Zach just looks at him.

"You're supposed to be her friend," Chris adds meaningfully, which Zach blames for the fact that he responds, "Yeah, well, we're friends too."

It's unfair, because it was just that once at a party like two years ago and they were both totally smashed, and it's understood that they just don't really need to talk about it. And besides that, it's not like he and Zoe have ever gone that far or ever would because there are lines. He fucking knows that. And, you know, still pretty gay, yeah.

"Whatever," Chris replies, stressing each syllable. "I'm just saying, don't write a check your dick can't cash."

"Right. And this has absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to make a deposit at Saldana National, of course," Zach says because sometimes he's an angry guy and during those sometimes metaphors aren't the only things he likes to torture.

Suddenly, vividly, intrusively, he can feel the lights on him and the photographer's voice in the back of his mind, disregarded, because staring intensely off into space isn't that hard. He can't seem to stop looking at Zoe and Chris being oiled up over yonder, at Chris leaning over and whispering something to Zoe, at the way she smiles, teeth bright and nose scrunching. He sees himself then, as if from afar. Sitting and waiting for them to be finished. Pursing his lips until they're a straight thin line at the way they keep making her press closer and closer to Chris. Categorizing the knot of resentment as indignation about the fact that that's not how the goddamn story goes this time. Fucking spoiler alert.

"Screw you," Chris says with much feeling and Zach snaps back to the now.

"Dude, come on," Zach wheedles with all sincerity, new regret blooming in his chest just as Chris has turned around to walk away.

Chris pauses, looks at him, and shakes his head ruefully, and Zach knows he's forgiven even though the silence goes on for a few more seconds.

"You better be extra nice to me today," Chris allows finally and claps him on the shoulder.

*

"Fuck," Zoe exclaims just as Zach says, "This isn't a big deal right?" into her neck.

"What?" she asks, catching his eye, her pupils dilated and her brow creased in confusion.

"Nothing, you know…" he trails off for a moment under her gaze. "Just, you know, everything doesn't have to mean something or whatever," he finishes, shockingly inarticulate.

"Holy shit, you're such a guy." She says it all incredulous and shocked like it never, ever once occurred to her before which he knows it damn well has because she's sitting on his lap and her tongue was wrapped around his earlobe not too long ago. And sure, he's mostly gay and that was kind of his point, but that's still pretty fucking insulting.

That's the day he gives her a massive hickey right above her collarbone.

She punches him hard in the arm because her dress for later is off the goddamn shoulder and she is adamant in her lack of appreciation for asshole moves.

*

All incredulity considered, it's still somehow four days before he can catch her alone and not retying Chris's tie or arm-in-arm with Karl or standing on the far end of a picture line-up.

*

~~He misses her when she isn't there.~~

No.

He misses her when he's not touching her. And that's not quite right.

Because she's three feet away, grinning grinning grinning (always authentic, never forced, because she really is that fucking grateful to be getting some returns on her dues), and he still kind of wants to shoulder JJ aside a little bit, close the space between them so she can slip under his arm, burrow into his side, slight and warm. Present.

He knows the comfort of her body heat too well and remembers feeling weightless and like his skin was humming in their tiny, cylindrical tube of a set as she leaned into him, closing her eyes and blocking out their surroundings so that she could stay in the moment while people around them fucked with the lights.

He's finally gotten her hand in his, palm to palm, fingers entwined, serene like his wavelength's been manually adjusted, before he privately concedes why certain things stay with him.

*

It would be the exact opposite of everything he believes and the way he wants to live his life to think that thirty-one is too old to discover anything new about yourself.

*

Watching their own press tour interviews while still on the press tour is just stupid enough an activity to be entertaining when really fucking bored in a foreign country but too tired to be properly adventuresome.

They're stretched out on top of the duvet in his hotel room, laptop balanced between them.

He doesn't choose his moment so much as it chooses itself. Which is fine because he likes his life free-range and organic.

Tiny, YouTube Zach makes a pained face. "I don't like to swear."

Zoe snorts. "Because you're a fucking lady."

Actual Zach smiles, fondly. "Not always, no."

When he kisses her, licks his way into her mouth, he cannot identify, in external terms, indicators of the difference in his intent.

She figures it out anyway and pulls away. He does not remove his hands from her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

"Zach, the hell," she begins then meets his eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she announces softly ten seconds later.

"You-" she begins.

"It's not like I've ever been a fanatic about it," he finishes.

She laughs, vital and delighted.

He gets her out of her pants first, just in case.

But the way she looks at him by the time she's got him naked on his back, straddling his waist, fills him with familiar confidence that he is ready, able, and very willing to handle anything that she, or life, finds fit to throw at him.

*

It's all good.

To be sure.


End file.
